Whistler 100K
Quick weekend trip up to Whistler with Matt Gaide.
In typical Gaide and Green fashion, we arrived with only seconds to spare before the start.
This wasn’t about time or place. It was a fun run for us, so we slipped into the crowd of 215 runners and let the mountain set the tone. The darkness, the rain, the headlamp beam just a few feet ahead all reminded me of the midnight start in Madeira, where the world shrinks to whatever your light can catch.
The opening of any race is always a sacred checkpoint for me. It is when I take inventory: mind and body. Mentally, I was buzzing with excitement but cautious about the elements. Physically, a subtle ache lingered in my right knee, and the brand-new shoes gifted me a hot spot on my ankle. Still, I had already chosen to be out there, so the deal was simple: keep putting one foot in front of the other.
The climb to Whistler’s peak was a blur. Visibility was low, and most of the effort went inward, managing the constant tug of war between discomfort and anxiety. Seven thousand feet over seven miles is no joke. Around 6,000 feet, we broke through the trees just as dawn gave us the first outlines of the ridgeline. Above us was cloud, below us was cloud, and at our elevation a breathtaking gap in between. A fleeting window of expansive nature before the grind returned for the final push to the summit.
At the top, the reality was far less poetic: wind, rain, and near-freezing temps. Gaide and I hustled through, eager to make our way back down.
The descent was steep and technical, with ankle traps scattered across the trail. Dropping below the cloud line, we followed a single track that curved above an alpine lake, its water glowing a blue as vivid as the sky. It stopped Matt and I in our tracks for just a moment.
The rest of the race offered more reminders of why we do this: glaciers in the distance, a black bear foraging for feed, a family of deer so large they could have been mistaken for horses and the ever obvious need for resistance in our lives.
I do it for those who can’t.